


Toldya so

by anactoriatalksback



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And so is Jared's, Bottom Richard, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Richard will never lack for arch-nemeses, Richard's kink is pedantry, Richard's petty obsessiveness is good for something after all, which is nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 01:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anactoriatalksback/pseuds/anactoriatalksback
Summary: Richard needs Jared to see how shitty this porn is. He'll do whatever it takes. Whatever. It. Takes.





	Toldya so

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crucialandinert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crucialandinert/gifts).



> This work was originally part of the  101 kink memes on tumblr 
> 
> crucialandinert  asked for Number 99 ("watching porn") with the following delicious twist:
> 
> Kink meme 99 pls... but instead of watching porn they are reading pwp fic from a fandom they are in.
> 
> I was hoping that someone would send me this prompt, and this twist was so much goshdarn fun. I had a million things I wanted to do with it, tried to do them all, realised that my 'drabble' was getting to be 1,000 words, and finally said 'fuck it, I'm leaning in, this is going to be A Fic, let's ride this thing...aaaallll the way to the 2,000-word line, apparently.

Richard thinks he’s finally got it. Now Jared will _have_ to agree.

Richard’s found out that not only are he and Jared fans of the same Tartakovsky cyberpunk space opera, they’re both on the same fan forum. Which is infested by an outstanding douchebro calling himself Oppenheimer ( _right?!?_ ) whose pedantry and condescension makes Richard’s blood bubble. But Richard can handle himself, okay? It’s only when he sees Jared _liking the guy’s posts_ that he bursts a literal vein.

‘There’s a GK Chestertonian quality to his reasoning’, says Jared, and then Richard hunts through the guy’s history to find dirt on him.

He thinks he’s got it when he finds out that Oppenheimer writes porn – _porn_ – featuring Dagmar (the well-meaning but compromised hero) and William (the ship’s surgeon who is Dagmar’s confidant and conscience).

But nope. Richard shows him the – the degenerate’s _filth_ – and all Jared has to say is ‘oh yes’, and sometimes ‘oh _yes_ ’ and once nothing but a pleasurable little shiver that Richard’s brain presents him with on repeat later that night.

And once, when Richard is convinced that the guy’s written an actually physically impossible sex act, and all Jared says is ‘oh no, one of them would be upside down, it’s really quite simple’, Richard has to lie down.

But now, Richard _has_ him, and he can barely contain himself.

‘Jared’, he hisses from his bunk bed, and Jared comes to him.

‘Shut the door’, says Richard – it’s not like he’s _ashamed_ of his fandom obsessions, _per se_ , but maybe it would be more comfortable if the guys couldn’t, y’know, _hear_.

Jared obeys, and Richard thrusts his laptop into Jared’s hands.

‘Read that’, he says, ‘it’s a sex scene, and it’s _gibberish_ , Jared.’

Jared looks at Richard very directly, once, before reading a few lines and then raising his eyes to Richard. ‘Richard, it seems fine - ’

‘ _OhmyGod_ ’, says Richard, beside himself. ‘How can you not -? Look, get up here.’

Jared blinks, but shins up the ladder. And oh, this is a very bad idea, but needs must. ‘Just – just pin me. All right? Like. They do.’

Jared’s eyes widen. ‘Richard, I don’t - ’

‘Just. _Do_ it.’

Jared, with some reluctance, takes Richard’s wrists in the loosest possible grip, and gently manoeuvres Richard onto his back, wrists held over his head. Richard stares up into Jared’s face and licks his lips.

‘So. Okay. So then, okay, _then_ William puts his hand on Dagmar’s leg. How can – oh.’

Jared’s taken both Richard’s wrists in one hand and transferred the other to Richard’s thigh. It’s…well, of course, Jared’s hands are very… _big_. And, okay, maybe Richard can see the appeal of being held this way, with Jared’s thumb moving in slow circles on the outside of his thigh, and…Richard shakes his head to clear it and Jared misunderstands, taking his hands away.

‘ _No!_ ’, and Richard winces at how desperate his voice is. ‘I mean. There’s. It _still_ doesn’t make sense. It. Look. Then William, like, rubs Dagmar’s c-co-crotch, and how – _oh_.’

Jared’s thigh is between Richard’s, rubbing gently but with definite – intent. And okay, Richard should’ve thought of that. Jared leans in, resting a little weight on Richard’s wrists. Richard lets out a shaky breath. Jared bends closer to Richard’s ear, and his voice is rougher than Richard’s ever heard it, ‘What next?’

Next? Jared’s bent over Richard, his breath on Richard’s face, his knee against Richard’s cock, and Richard’s supposed to remember Oppenheimer’s _story_? ‘I – don’t – ‘

‘You _do_ remember’, says Jared, and his tone is pleasant, but there’s an edge there that Richard’s never heard, and Richard’s cock twitches, ‘what. Next. Richard?’

Richard shuts his eyes, maybe with a little less stimulus he'll, but Jared's got a rhythm going, fucking _grinding_ against his leg, the friction delicious, the pressure too much and not enough, and he can't stop himself rocking up into the touch, and Jared's hand's tightening on his wrists, maybe he'll mark them ( _yes_ ) and his thumb's tracing little arabesques on his thigh, and oh _God_. 'Richard? You need - to tell me, Richard' and oh how is Jared sounding so calm when Richard can _feel_ him growing hard? 'I can't - help you - unless you tell me.'

'Clothes', gasps Richard. 'They - took off - their clothes - without – letting – go. How-'

And for once Jared's looking thoughtful. 'Hmm. That _does_ seem to be an oversight.'

 _Yes_. Fucking _oversight_. Take _that_ , Oppenheimer.

Jared releases Richard's wrists and sits back, over Richard's protesting whimper. 'Clothes off, Richard.' He leans forward, thumb still tracing those slow, tantalising circles on Richard’s thigh. 'Let's see just how _wrong_ Oppenheimer is.'

And Richard’s never shucked off his clothes so fast in his life. He’ll never find that one sock or his boxers again, fuck knows where they went.

He’s panting when he looks at Jared, who has managed to divest himself of his clothes without Brooks-Brothers-bombing the room.

And _oh_. That long, slender, pale body, at once heartbreakingly fragile and just….fucking….I mean, those _hands_. Those wrists. Those eyes. That long, slim cock. Just…fucking…

Richard starts forward, mouth actually, literally watering, when one of those large hands meets Richard’s chest and Jared crowds Richard back down. He bends to nose at Richard’s pulse point and says ‘What next?’

Oh.

Richard swallows. ‘I…’

Jared leans over the bed and then looks at Richard’s laptop. And that expanse of blue-veined back, with that high, bony ass, just waiting for Richard’s teeth and tongue and hands and…

‘Oh, yes. Well, this should be easy.’

Richard blinks. ‘W-what?’

Jared’s back, nudging Richard onto his side and then his front.

‘Oh, _yes_ ’, he murmurs reverently, running his hands over Richard’s ass. Richard moans. Jared bends and bites, once, at the base of Richard’s spine. Richard yelps.

‘Richard’, says Jared, sounding – finally – a little out of breath, ‘it says here that you masturbate.’

Richard lets out a breath, and reaches for his red, weeping cock. Jared’s hands shoot out and capture his wrist.

‘Oh no’, he says, ‘I should have remembered.’

And he keeps Richard’s wrists pinned over his head, forcing Richard’s head down.

‘Then how - ’ Richard begins.

Jared’s draped over Richard’s back, and Richard can’t help wriggling experimentally at the press of that wonderful hardness against him. Jared gasps. ‘I – I would suggest – rubbing – against – the sheets.’

Oh.

And Richard does, lowering himself, moving up, down, wrists chafing ever so slightly against Jared’s firm, brooking-no-arguments hold, yes, yes, harder, faster, soon, soon…

And then Richard yowls as Jared pinches his ass.

‘No, Richard. Not yet.’

 _The fuck_?

‘Anal fingering’, says Jared, ‘and Richard? You’ll be pleased to know…I think I’ve spotted a snag.’

And it would take a lot – a lot – to break through Richard’s haze of _Jared please Jared just_ please _Jared_ , but that does it. ‘A. Snag?’

‘Yes’, says Jared, in the pleased manner of a man finding winning lottery numbers. ‘I really don’t see how I could hold your cock’, Richard jerks, ‘and finger you’, Richard shudders, ‘and masturbate at the same time.’

And oh God, who even knows, but can they _try_?

‘And also’, says Jared, in a confidential, ‘Richard? We have a secret’ voice, ‘Oppenheimer seems to think that hand lotion is as good as lubricant.’ He clicks his tongue. ‘I really don’t think we should put it to the test, do you?’

Richard shakes his head. He doesn’t want to disagree with anything Jared says right now, will follow him to the ends of the earth if it means they get to try out whatever's coming next in that fucking fic.

Richard scrambles behind his pillow and retrieves, with shaking hands, a bottle of lube. He hands it to Jared and god alone knows what sort of picture he makes right now, dumbly holding out lube with a pleading look in his eye and his cock curving against his belly. But Jared gives him a warm, proud smile, and God forgive him but Richard will never – ever – be able to see that smile again without getting at least a _little_ hard.

Jared motions with his chin and Richard falls obediently onto his back. Jared crouches between his legs, warming the lube between his fingers and considering Richard’s body like a general planning a campaign.

Richard swallows.

His friend is beautiful.

Jared bends over Richard, catching his lips in a kiss so delicate that it makes Richard’s eyes sting. ‘Was that’, says Richard, ‘in the script?’

Jared’s eyes fly to Richard’s. ‘No.’ He looks away. ‘I’m sorry, I - ’

Richard surges up to Jared. He only gets the side of his mouth and huffs noisily against his cheek, but Jared’s surprised, delighted sigh suggests he doesn’t mind.

‘Now’, says Jared, is eyes bright, ‘to business.’ He wraps one large hand around Richard’s cock, and Richard’s back arches off the bed.

‘Oooohhhhff _fuuuuuuck_.’

And then Richard gasps as he feels one long finger drawing slow circles around his rim.

‘O-Oh.’

‘Shhhhhh’, says Jared, ‘we’ll – _oh_.’

Because Richard’s wriggled, managed to get Jared’s finger inside him, past the nail. And oh, oh _God_.

‘ _Richard_ ’, breathes Jared.

It burns, and Richard scrambles at Jared’s shoulders. But then – _then…._

‘More’, says Richard. Jared swallows and probes deeper. Richard mewls, flexes, clenches. Jared pushes in, a little deeper, and Richard swears.

When Jared moves his finger out, Richard clutches at him. ‘Wh-what- _oh_.’

Because there’s the second and then the third, playing that intricate, lewd little dance. Advance, scissor, explore, retreat. Richard’s head is moving restlessly from side to side on his pillow, he’s pushing himself up and down on Jared’s slim, clever fingers, up and down, fucking himself, harder, harder…

‘I wonder’, says Jared, his voice harsh, his chest shaking with the seeming effort of keeping his tone even, ‘I wonder if I have – a solution to Oppenheimer’s dilemma.’

Richard’s eyes flutter open. ‘A- a solu-what?’

Jared lowers himself onto his foreams, just enough for his cock to line up against Richard’s. Richard lets out a shuddering gasp.

‘I think’, says Jared, with a swallow, ‘that this – may be – satisfactory.’

And he begins moving – gently at first, then building to an inescapable, perpetual-motion rhythm – against Richard, one hand moving up and down Richard’s aching, weeping cock, the other pistoning in and out, in and out, of Richard’s hungrily-clutching hole.

Richard throws his head back and wails, there’s no other word for it, an endless litany of ‘Jared Jared Jared fuck yes like that there there there now fuck yes please’.

And that’s Jared’s solution, not Oppenheimer’s.

So – you know – Jared: 1,000,000,000, Oppenheimer: 0.

Richard’s Not Impressed when Jared abruptly pulls away because apparently the script says they’re not allowed to come yet. But also, when Jared is dragging with sweet, torturous slowness against Richard's ass, they discover that Oppenheimer is also definitely wrong about how long a man can last without coming, even if he is aching, bursting, fucking _insensible_ with want.

Jared slides, slick and slow, against Richard’s pouting, waiting hole. He snags once, deliberately, and fuck Richard swears his ass is nearly _prehensile_ , the way it snatches at that precise, glorious torment. But Jared withdraws…only to flirt with Richard’s aching rim again. He dips, once, almost – fucking – kittenishly, before retreating, leaving Richard furious and empty and wanting.

‘Fuck’, breathes Richard, ‘you little _tease_.’

‘Richard’, says Jared reprovingly, and oh is his voice always this deep, it can’t be, Richard wouldn’t have _any fluid left in his body_ if it were, ‘I’m only following instructions.’

'Please', whispers Richard. He roots after Jared, after what he needs. 'Oh God, please. You. Have to. Please.'

Jared licks leisurely up Richard's ear, and he whimpers. 'That's not in the script.'

'Fuck the script', says Richard, pushing himself back against that delicious, elusive, _maddening_ cock. 'Fuck _me_.'

And in moments Jared's dragged him up on all fours, thin thighs bracketing him. Jared runs those large, shapely hands over Richard’s ass, and Richard arches into the touch, keening.

‘Well, if you insist…I did wonder at that omission in the story.’

‘I’m sure’, pants Richard. ‘Fuck, _yes_. Please, Jared, _please_ , I _need_.'

Just before Jared enters him, he whispers again in Richard’s ear 'let's leave a _scathing_ comment on that Oppenheimer story.'

And apparently you _can_ come with your dick untouched.

Goddammit, Oppenheimer's right about that one.


End file.
